


Fell; or How Did It Come To This?

by FitzLemur



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, Gen, Gender-Neutral Frisk, Nonbinary Chara and Frisk, POV Frisk, Selectively Mute Frisk, Underfell Asgore Dreemurr, Underfell Flowey, Underfell Frisk, Underfell Mettaton, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, Underfell Toriel - Freeform, Underfell Undyne, underfell alphys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-03-24 21:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13819986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FitzLemur/pseuds/FitzLemur
Summary: Fell (adj):1.fierce; cruel; dreadful; savage.2.destructive; deadly:fell poison; fell disease.There must be a million of these out there, but I thought I'd experiment a little and try novelizing what I imagine Underfell to be like. Follows for the most part established personalities and important moments, but there are some twists.





	1. Legends Say

Long ago, two races ruled over Earth: HUMANS and MONSTERS. One day, war broke out between the two races. After a long battle, the humans were victorious. They sealed the monsters underground with a magic spell, beneath the imposing Mt. Ebott.  
Legends say that those who climb the mountain never return.

* * *

With a start your eyes shoot open. Sunlight spills through a large hole quite some distance above you, and you blink reactively for a second. Your ears ring with a sound you can’t quite identify. You sit up and look around. You can’t see much of your surroundings, but it’s clear you’ve found yourself in a cave of some sort. The only pop of color in this room is the patch of golden flowers you’re lying in. They’re surprisingly soft and cushy to the touch; you reason they must have broken your fall. Standing up, you walk into the darkness a bit, your eyes adjusting to the underground setting, and start exploring the cavern. There is only one exit you can see, so you follow the path until you arrive at an ornate doorframe, emblazoned with an odd sort of triangular symbol.  
You walk through it enter another chamber which, like the one you fell into, has in its center a small circle illuminated by sunlight. In the center, however, is not a patch of golden flowers, but one, solitary bloom—and one that looks rather worse for the wear. As you approach curiously, it speaks.  
“Please don’t kill me.”  
The voice is sad and broken, and for the first time you notice the semblance of a face, ringed by ragged, yellow petals. This flower looks as though it has been on the receiving end of far too many beatings. It repeats itself.  
“Please… what did I ever do to you?”  
As it turns to you and gazes into your eyes, an odd sensation washes over you—or rather, two. You feel a sudden urge to kill this poor creature, but at the same time, a voice seems to tell you to have mercy on it. You stare for a moment, overwhelmed by the sudden position you have been placed in, and then, as if you were pressing one of two buttons, you decide to spare it.  
The flower, who had been shaking and cringing in anticipation, looks up in small shock. “You… you’re sparing me?” it says, incredulously. “All this time and I’ve never seen anyone do that before.” You don’t reply, standing in front of the flower until you believe it’s sure you have no intention of harming it. It now looks intrigued, and realization dawns on its face. “You… you must be new to the Underground, aren’tcha?” His voice—it somehow feels right to refer to this being as male—has lost a bit of its frightened, resigned tremble, and is now distinctly more… well, friendly. “You must be so confused.”  
The look on your face must confirm his statement, as he nods and says. “I’m Flowey. Flowey the flower.” He flashes a smile as he introduces himself, and you feel as though this plant might just be your new best friend. At any rate, he’s the only one you have for the time being. “Someone ought to show you how things work down here… I guess I’m good as any.” Flowey’s smile fades. “Listen… this is not a good place to be for a human like you. These ruins are filled with monsters, and every last one of them will not hesitate to kill you. Worse still, there’s her to worry about…” Whoever he’s talking about causes him to visibly shudder in fear again.  
He looks at you and smiles again, though you can’t help but feel that this one is a bit forced. “But don’t worry about it, alright? I’m going to help you back home. That’s what friends are for, right? Now follow me… and be very, very careful.” With that, Flowey disappears beneath the earth and appears to travel quickly in direction of a door similar to the last, but much larger and, somewhat troublingly, colored a dark shade of red. Apprehensive, but trusting your new friend, you walk through.  
The darkness that prevailed is gone and you find yourself in an antechamber of sorts. Flowey is ahead, using vine-like tendrils to activate what appear to be four switches on the floor. “These ruins are full of puzzles and traps… but they’re not the most dangerous part. I can handle them.” The door at the opposite end of the room clicks open and he once again vanishes into the soil. On the other side of the door is the entrance to what appears to be a desolate city. The ground is littered with fallen leaves—appropriate, you decide, considering your method of arrival—and everything from the floors to the roof is that same, ominous shade of red.  
Looking up at the ruins, you feel something within you. The sight of this building looming in this underground place fills you with determination. You almost seem to glow with a bright light, and suddenly you once again hear the source of the noise that echoed in your ears when you fell. It once again echoes, resonating within you, a single word: Chara.


	2. Enemies Attacking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes get in a couple of fights and meet someone rather intimidating.

Flowey leads you through a series of corridors, every now and then stopping to point out some levers to pull in order to bypass some puzzle. Eventually you arrive in another room. At one end of it is an unrecognizable form. It appears to be made of cotton, and shreds of fabric cling to it precariously. You approach inquisitively, and Flowey, who has been looking around corners to see if anyone approaches, turns to see what you’re looking at. “Oh, that,” he says. “That’s a training dummy. Or… it used to be.” He looks the remains of the dummy up and down. “They used to pay ghosts to inhabit these things; made good practice for combat. Of course, that was before…” He trails off, visibly uncomfortable. “At any rate, this is a good opportunity. If you’re going to survive down here you’re going to have to learn how to FIGHT. So go on, get closer to it.”   
You take a step further and feel an odd rushing sensation. Your surroundings fade and everything goes dark. All you can see are two bright, intense red lights. You make out one of them to be the silhouette of the tattered dummy. The other one: your own heart. Flowey must sense your confusion. “Don’t worry, you’ve only entered a FIGHT,” he reassures. His figure materializes out of the darkness, glowing with a pale white light as opposed to the striking red of the other two entities. He gestures with a tendril towards your glowing heart. “That there is your SOUL. Think of it as… the culmination of your very being. Your emotions, your identity, your…. DETERMINATION.” His voice takes a funny tone on the last word, but quickly returns to normal. “Go ahead, try and move it around.” You find yourself able to control your SOUL to move about the room, almost as if floating about in an imaginary box.   
“Good,” Flowey calls out. “Now, let’s see…” He turns a scrutinizing gaze on you. “You’ve got… a stick.” A moment’s silence. “Well, it’s better than nothing,” he deadpans. “As for armor… an old… bandage?” The flower’s face contorts in an incredulous expression, but he sighs resignedly. “That’ll have to do. So what you wanna do is take that stick, concentrate real hard… and hit the dummy. Got it? Now go!” You brandish the stick, and it’s as if a targeting system in your mind’s eye centers on the dummy. You raise your arm hesitantly, preparing to strike, but something doesn’t feel right. You look pitifully at the heap of cotton. How many monsters must have used this poor thing as a punching bag? There’s no need to add yourself to this vicious cycle of abuse. You lower your stick.   
Flowey gives a bemused frown. “Hey, buddy, you missed.” You ignore him and give the dummy another glance over, weighing your options. Even without moving or making a noise, it gives off such a beaten, defeated aura… not unlike the plant you just met. Suddenly your next course of action occurs to you. Rather than strike the dummy with your stick, you extend your hand and attempt to strike up a conversation.   
“…”  
It doesn’t seem much for such things.   
“Are you brain-dead?” Flowey’s shrill voice startles you, his confusion having been replaced with irritation. “Hit. The dummy. With your stick!” He shouts, but you’ve made up your mind. You instead wrap the dummy in a tight embrace, almost as much for your own comfort as for its. Suddenly the intense crimson glare of its ragged form dims, and it glows in a faint white light much like Flowey. That same voice of mercy bubbles up within you, and you spare the poor thing. The FIGHT ends, and you are once again in just in the room with a beat-up dummy and a talking flower.  
Flowey glares at you, eyes narrowed in disbelief. “That was… uh…” He seems at a loss for words. You look at him and shrug, trying to tell him you didn’t want to hurt it. The golden flower cocks his head and sighs in exasperation. “Whatever,” he huffs. “But when we get into a fight with a real monster, you’re gonna have to fight back.” You don’t react. After another awkward pause, Flowey mutters “let’s just go already” and sinks into the ground, presumably off to the next room. You go ahead yourself.  
Upon entering the room, you look around, but don’t see your friend. Even as you wonder where he could be, something jumps out at you and you feel yourself once again being drawn into a FIGHT. In a bit of a panic, you come face to face with a frog-like creature. A voice tells you that this is a Froggit… and it’s blocking your way. You check it out, and the same voice seems to indicate that life is difficult for this enemy. With a hearty croak, the beast leaps out at you once more. You manage to jerk yourself out of the way just in time, and the Froggit for some reason meows. You think for a moment. Life is difficult for it… you get an idea. You compliment the Froggit, giving it a big thumbs up. It’s clear it didn’t understand anything you said, but it seems to have gotten the gist and blushes deeply. A smattering of magical bullets materializes behind it, before turning into the shape of a swarm of flies. You dodge out of the way, but one of them rams into you and you wince in pain. The red light about the Froggit fades to white, as you now understand to mean it is ready for mercy. You spare the Froggit and the fight ends.  
“…you think you’re so smart, don’t you?” You turn quickly to see Flowey, watching with disdain. You take a step back, alarmed by the flower’s sudden change in demeanor. “Let me make one thing very clear,” he snaps, and his simple face suddenly morphs into a nightmarish grin. “In this world, IT’S KILL OR BE KILLED!” he cries, his head inexplicably enlarging and rising to eye level with you. Your heart is pounding. Flowey seems to realize what he’s doing and returns to normal size, his visage reverting to its standard dot eyes and thin smile as well. He lets out a long sigh.   
“Look, buddy…” He averts his gaze. “I’m sorry, but…” he trails off once more, but this time he looks at you, seriousness blazing in his eyes. “You aren’t the first human to fall down here. Everyone in this place will stop at nothing to get you dead. They will not hug you. They will not make friends with you. They will not show you mercy. If you try to be the goody-two shoes savior you’re gonna end up dead, and when that happens, don’t expect me to cry for you!” His voice trembles again. After a brief debate in your head, you reach down and (somewhat awkwardly) pat the flower. He tenses at first, but then relaxes, his torn petals drooping.   
You tell Flowey you believe that there is good in everyone… that anyone, even the worst person can change. And you aren’t going to fight anyone until they’ve been given that chance. Flowey looks up at you again, his expression unreadable. “I will say… I’ve never seen anyone convince an enemy to back off by just being nice to them before. And the way it turned white…” He seems lost in thought. “Alright. Alright. I must be insane. I must be a bigger idiot than you are. But we can try it your way. You just gotta promise me one thing.” He stares you in the eyes. “Listen to me. I’m gonna let you do your thing, but when I say run, you run. When I say fight, you fight. I would hate to have to clean up after your mess if you died.” You smile and extend a pinky. Flowey hesitates, and then curls his vine around the finger. You shake lightly and Flowey cracks a genuine smile. “Onward, then?” You nod.  
Turning, you find yourselves in a remarkably long corridor. You are hesitant to go down it. Flowey raises an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?” You shake your head and wander down, trying to clear the feeling of unnecessary tension that seems to hover in the air and permeate your skull. With every step you take your heart races a little more and your breathing accelerates. Flowey is visibly concerned. “Hey, are you alright?” You don’t respond. You’re almost to the end of the corridor. Just a little farther—  
“Oh no…” A lot of things happen at once. Flowey cries out in terror, a massive figure steps out from behind a pillar, you fall to the ground and scramble backwards. As you look up, a large, white monster in some sort of black and red robe towers over you. The monster’s eyes glow with hungry fire, and its small horns curve into sharp points. A smile spreads across the newcomer’s muzzle, one that may have been intended to reassure, but it only serves to unnerve. Flowey shrinks behind you, shaking even harder than when you first met him. The monster glares at him and opens its mouth.   
“What a miserable creature, tormenting a poor, innocent youth…” The voice is surprisingly gentle, but still sends chills down your spine. The monster continues, directing attention to you now. “Greetings, my child. I am Toriel, caretaker of the ruins.”


	3. Fell Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes meet a very nice lady, have a run in with a certain spook, and die.

The monster—Toriel, she said her name was—extends a large paw to lift you up. You glance behind you, but Flowey is gone. After some hesitation, you reach up and she grasps your hand, dwarfing it in hers. She pulls you to your feet. “Was that flower bothering you? Such a pest, that one…” she remarks, and another twinge of unease passes through you. This time, she seems to notice your discomfort. “Oh, do not worry, my child… it has just been so long since a human fell down.” The unsettling look in her eyes takes on a sudden, sadder light. You wonder just who this monster is. She shakes herself out of it and smiles even wider. “You must be exhausted! Come back to my house and I’ll take care of you.”   
Before you can respond, you feel something wrap around your ankle and squeeze tightly. Glancing down, you see it’s a small plant-like tendril. Toriel’s eyes dart downwards, following your gaze, but the vine has already retracted into the ground. You decide to tell her you’ll be fine on your own. She looks genuinely taken aback. “But… my child… if you don’t come with me… you’ll die!” That same feeling of unease wracks your frame once more. Panicking, you tell her you’re waiting for a friend. She squints suspiciously. “There are no friends down here. All are enemies… I am the only one who can keep you safe.” You don’t answer, trembling slightly.   
Toriel says nothing for a few, terrifying seconds, then exhales sharply through her nostrils. “If you are so certain you can make friends, prove yourself. I will leave you be. Come to my house at the end of the ruins.” She turns, then produces a small device and presses it into your palm. “When you realize I’m right, just call and I’ll come get you.” She leaves the room. “Good luck, my child.” You look at the device in your hand, now recognizing it to be a cell phone. You briefly wonder she got it. Pressing the button, you see there is only one number in the contacts. It is saved as “Mom.”   
“She’s gone.” You turn and face Flowey. If it were possible for him to look pale, that would be an accurate description of his demeanor. You look at him questioningly. “Toriel. Definitely the most powerful monster here. Everyone else is terrified of her… and with good reason. She could have burned you to a crisp in a heartbeat.” You swallow nervously but point out that she didn’t. You thought he had told you that monsters wouldn’t hesitate to kill you. He frowns. “They won’t. You must have… you must have reminded her of someone.” His voice tightens slightly. “Look, don’t go thinking she’s nice. She kills anything that looks at her the wrong way. They say that she even bakes monster dust into pies and eats them.” You tilt your head in confusion. “When a monster dies, they become dust. These ruins are full of the stuff… and most of it is because of her.”   
You grow quiet for a moment. Flowey continues. “I think she wants to test you. She wants to see if you’ll kill. I think it’s a terrible idea to go to her house, but I think if you try to run away, it’ll be even worse. Also… the only way out of here is in her basement. We’d have to sneak in at any rate. We can use this to our advantage.” You nod, uncertain, but trusting your friend. “Guess we’re going home after all…” he says, almost to himself. You decide not to ask what he means. “Let’s go on then, shall we?” He burrows into the ground, presumably off to the next room. That odd feeling fills you again, glowing with determination, and you hear that strange voice once more. Chara.  
You go through the next few chambers and corridors, encountering various monsters, who, as Flowey predicted, were quick to attack you, and each time that voice identified them. There were more Froggits, some sort of flying creature called a Whimsun, odd slimes that were evidently named Moldsmals, even a rock you tried to push as part of a puzzle grew cross and began to berate you. In each case, much to Flowey’s amazement, you showed kindness to the assailant. Sometimes you had to get creative (interacting with the Moldsmals involved imitating their wiggly movements), but they all eventually backed off when you spared them, and all lost their intense red glow.   
“I just don’t get it. Do you know how many times I tried reasoning with those creeps and they just killed me anyway?” Flowey says, bemused. You frown and ask what he means by killed. The flower freezes for a second. “I, uh—it’s a figure of speech, buddy.” You don’t buy that for a second and press for more answers. “Look, I don’t ask you every detail about your life, so why don’t you just—”   
“ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ….” The loud sound interrupts him. You both turn to the source and are met with an odd sight. A large, black form has positioned itself across the floor, blocking further progress. It almost resembles a Halloween decoration, like one of those bedsheets that has been hung in such a way as to evoke the image of a ghost. You are, quite frankly, confused. Flowey seems to be as well.   
“A ghost? Down here?” He frowns. “How have I never seen them before…?” You take a tentative step towards the ghost. The “z” noise gets louder. You get the impression that they are not actually asleep and tell Flowey as much. He nods. “Yeah, it seems like they’re just saying ‘z’ out loud… Hey! You!” He shouts. The ghost does not respond. “Listen, buddy, hate to interrupt your ‘nap’, but we need to get through here, so… scoot!” You look at Flowey, alarmed that he’s being so aggressive. “Oh, relax; ghosts traditionally wish to avoid conflict. Just move them with force, it’s the only way we’re going to get through.” You swallow nervously. The ghost continues emitting cacophonous Z’s. Very slowly, you extend your stick ever closer until the point of it is mere millimeters away from the monster’s side. Then you poke it softly.  
“ooooooOOOOOOOOH!” With a ghastly wail, the ghost springs up, opening blood red eyes. They look incredibly angry. You jump backwards. Glaring at you, the irate specter begins to speak, their voice oddly distant sounding and echoing. “what are you doing…? i come down here to avoid people and suddenly someone comes along and ruins everything…!” You look to Flowey, who is starting to look less and less confident. You try in vain to stammer an apology. “in your way, am i…? you want me to move….?” Bloodlike liquid begins to seep from the ghost’s eyes, and they rise into the air menacingly. “sorry…. not really feelin’ up to it right now.”  
The world goes dark and your soul lights up. The black phantasm is now surrounding by a glowing scarlet outline, a sadistic smile turning up the corners of their mouth. You have been drawn into yet another fight—a ghost fight. You glare at Flowey, calling him out for his claim that ghosts would avoid conflict. “They do! Or they did—Look out! Here comes the psychopath!” You just barely dodge out of the way as the specter swoops downward to you.   
“my name is napstablook… not that it matters…” the ghost spits out distastefully, and the crimson tears spilling from their eyes begin to mobilize into bullets. This time you aren’t quite fast enough to evade, and you are pelted as if with horizontal rain. The tears seem corrosive, and eat away at your clothes and skin, causing you to wince in pain.   
“Are you okay, buddy?” Flowey’s voice is fraught with concern. You don’t have the time to respond as more attacks are coming your way. In addition to the normal tear attacks, there are some that move much quicker and travel along the walls and floor. You do your best to dance around them, but you take hit after hit. You feel very weak, and your hopes of survival have significantly diminished. “Hold on!” Flowey says, as if he’s about to help you somehow. However, he does nothing. “What… why can’t I reset?” The sheer panic in his voice is palpable. You want to ask what he means, but your attention is otherwise engaged. “I—I don’t understand! What’s happening?!”  
In desperation you lash out at Napstablook with your stick. It contacts, but the apparition doesn’t even flinch. “you can’t damage ghosts with physical attacks… it was a nice try…” You tell them you’ll do anything they want. Though the ghost lacks shoulders, they do their best approximation of a shrug. “i’d just weigh you down.” Flowey screams something you can’t make out and one last wave of blood-read tears washes over you. The acid burns at your skin. The last thing you are aware of before you lose consciousness is your SOUL parting down the middle, and, with one last sickening crunch, shattering into pieces.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a bit of a prologue to get us started.


End file.
